Into the Lion's Den
by ImperiusDominatus
Summary: Follow Inquisitor Procuro as he races to recover a mysterious stolen Chaos artifact and ultimatly unveil a rebellious Governor's plot for domination. Chapter 3 up.
1. Prologue

Note: This is just the prologue, but later chapters will be longer.

Prologue

A magnificent orange-tinted glow loomed over the shadowed rooftops in the city of Syran as the bright sun sunk beneath the horizon. Most of the inhabitants were safely inside their homes, enjoying each others company and gathering around for their evening meal. Govenor Sevrax, however, was not very happy. He was stricken with fear and anxiety; his master was not pleased with him, he had failed to attain the object of which he sought. But not to worry, he thought, for he shall have it soon.

Sevrax continued to gaze dreamily over the balcony of his palace at the quiet suburban streets below with his right hand grasped tightly around the long jet black walking stick to which he was leaning against. The darkness slowly enveloped him. Soon he was starring out at a sea of inky blackness as the sun finally disappeared. The streetlights amongst the darkness reflected the starry night sky above.

Suddenly a loud tapping noise filled his ears and he quickly snapped out of his reverie. As he came to his senses he realised the tapping was coming from the desolate hall behind him. Turning on his heel he limped back into the large room, the walking stick sending a dull clank around the area as it clashed with the misty white marble flooring.

He made his way towards a light switch on the wall beside the large wooden door and gave it a slight flick, the room around him was quickly illuminated. The hall was an extremely large room with a great arched roof and large monastery-like windows at it's end. The walls themselves were covered in an assortment of portraits and statues depicting a number of his ancient relatives; in the corner of the room stood a large glass case containing numerous shining gold medals and pendants reflecting the vivid light.

Sevrax turned towards the heavy door with his free hand outstretched, but before he could reach the ornate silver handle, it was yanked open from the other side. Standing in the dark hallway outside the open door was a tall, broad shouldered man with his hands behind his back. Sevrax leapt back in surprise.

"Tyranus!" He cried, but soon his shocked face relaxed and a wide, evil grin crept across his face. "Well, do you have it?"

Tyranus stepped into the light of the room, illuminating his face. He was an old, grumpy looking man with thick black eyebrows and a large hooked nose. His sleek black hair was smoothed over the back of his neck, he was wearing a dark grey trench coat and flak armour matching the PDF.

"Yes, my lord," Tyranus said in a low growl, "it is currently being stored in your personal vault."

"And did you run into any trouble?" Sevrax asked quickly.

"I'm afraid so. We were attacked by a damn Inquisitor," Tyranus said, his lip curling at the thought. "He ambushed us just as we were about to acquire the item. I lost four of my best men, but we managed to escape."

"Did he follow you?" Sevrax asked at once, his eyes bulging, the familiar wave of fear washing over him.

"I don't think so, maybe I shou-" Tyranus began, but Sevrax suddenly burst out in maniacal laughter, the evil grin coming across his face once more.

"What does it matter anyway? Now that my Master has what he wants, some Inquisitor isn't going to stand in his way," Sevrax said triumphantly.

Meanwhile, a hulking grey shape was shifting through the empty black space towards the planet; the Imperial Cruiser, _His Wrath_, stopped in orbit above the planets surface, waiting for further orders. Flying beside it was a small Aquila lander, miniscule compared to the Cruiser. It flew directly towards the nearest landing bay. The small black ship was almost invisible against the blackness of space, save for the gold mark of the Inquisition displayed on it's wings.


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1 

A deep hissing sound and a cloud of steam issuing forth from the exhaust grills on the Imperial lander signalled it's halt. Numerous servitors shuffled around the ship, attaching fuel cables and similar equipment. The rear hatch slowly lowered with a hum, revealing a tall, slim figure cloaked in crimson robes over black carapace armour. Inquisitor Procuro surveyed the loading bay with an interested expression.

"Come," he said simply over his shoulder as he stepped down the ramp into the loading bay. Behind him, exiting the ship, were three figures; the first was a woman with a curvaceous body and black carapace armour similar to the Inquisitor, Interrogator Pamela Ferox. She wore dark robes that shadowed her face; the second was Trooper Viktor Yevin, a bulky man wearing the red and black carapace armoured uniform of the Inquisitorial Storm Troopers. His grenade launcher was swing swinging idly by his side, strapped to his shoulder. The third and last figure was Sergeant Rufas Harkman, an aged veteran also wearing the Inquisitorial Storm Trooper uniform. A plasma pistol and sheathed sword were clipped to his belt.

Procuro scanned the myriad of servitors and mechanical equipment until his eyes settled on a young man, clothed in an ornate Imperial Navy uniform, moving towards them. The throng of servitors parted to make way. As the man reached the Inquisitor he bent low in a respectable bow. Procure nodded his head in acknowledgement. The man raised himself out of the bow and shook Procuro's hand, a look of deepest respect on his face.

"Master Inquisitor, Lord of the Ordo Hereticus, sir," the man said, "I am Lieutenant Dresman and on behalf of this ship I welcome you aboard. You honour us with your pres-"

"Where is Captain Vauss? I was told he would be greeting me," Procuro asked, completely ignoring the man's welcome.

"Captain Vauss is busy on the bridge," Dresman said quickly, disregarding Procuro's interruption, "now if you'll kindly follow me to your sleeping quarters, you can meet the Captain later in briefing."

Procuro accepted this and followed the man out of the landing bay, his entourage behind him. After a few minutes of winding metal corridors they came to their quarters: a small common room with a few benches and old, mouldy chairs set around the edges; in the centre sat an old pict-screen collecting a thick layer of dust, at the far end of the room a corridor led to the sleeping quarters. His retinue let out a dull groan at the site. Dresman didn't seem to notice.

"Well, I'll leave everyone to get sorted, briefing's at 1700 hours," Dresman said and, without waiting for a reply, left the room in a hurry, slamming the door shut behind him.

"What did you do to get us into this frak hole?" Harkman asked angrily, his scarred face surveying the old, dust-covered room.

Procuro sighed, "I'm not sure, but lets not worry now, there are more important things at hand."

Harkman let out a disbelieving snort. Truthfully, Procuro thought it had something to do with denying the Captain a promotion a few years ago, apparently he carries a grudge. He didn't care though, he would only be spending a day on the ship before he made the journey to the planet, Chlorus II, below.

"Pamela," he said, turning to Ferox beside him. "Take this time to rest, we'll be leaving tomorrow."

"Yes, sir," she said before turning on her heel and exiting the common room, Yevin following in her wake.

Two hours later Procuro was striding down the long corridors towards the briefing room, his retinue in tow. His presence often caused crew members to jump back in shock and quickly snap to attention; he smirked to himself as a young man in his early twenties dropped the mug of coffee he was carrying and attempted to pick it up muttering "sorry, sir" as he went. Harkman had no qualms about laughing boisterously at him.

Inspiring fear in your fellow man has it's merits, but it makes for a difficult social life, he thought as a pair of crew members leapt to their feet in a salute, their faces a clash between fear and respect.

He approached the large metal doors to the briefing room; they slid open with a deep hum and he stepped inside. The briefing room was large and circular with comfortable padded seats surrounding a central holo-projector, the lights were quiescent so only the faint emanating blue glow from the holo-projector was visible. His retinue spanned out beside him and took their seats, looking transfixed at the centre of the room.

"Welcome, Inquisitor," said a loud drawling voice beyond the central light. Procuro jumped slightly at the voice and consequently surveyed the darkness for any sign of the originator, but before he had time to make out the dark shapes, a man stepped into the light, a bionic eye replacing his right socket suddenly lit up with a dull red luminescence. The rest of the man's face appeared ancient, his balding head was covered in small patches of white hair whilst his face was a maze of wrinkles and lines, his skin seemed to droop off the bones. His small mouth, which first appeared to be just another wrinkle, opened into a leering smile.

"Lord Inquisitor, as Lieutenant Dresman has undoubtedly mentioned, you honour us with your presence," Captain Vauss said slowly, a tiny hint of sarcasm in his voice.

Procuro ignored his words and continued through the rows of seats to the central holo-projector with his red cloak billowing around his legs, he could now see every line on Vauss's face clearly under the blue haze.

"Well, Inquisitor, shall we get started?" Vauss said, his smile fixed solidly on his face, "I would much like to know why you are here; I daresay your not here to discredit me again?"

"Do not tempt me, Vauss," Procuro said heatedly.

The smile vanished from Vauss's face, replaced by a look of pure loathing. Procuro had had enough of his insubordination, he was here for a purpose and he was intent on fulfilling that purpose.

"Very well, Inquisitor," Vauss muttered, his voice shaking with bitterness, "what brings you to my domain?"

"One month ago I tracked down a group of rogue soldiers on the planet Krayen VI, in a neighbouring system," Procuro began, "I found them raiding an old shrine from the days of the Great Heresy, they had excavated a strange object of unknown properties. When we attacked they scattered and took the object with them; fortunately I managed to trace them to Chlorus II."

He reached into his robes and retracted a small black square object, then without even glancing downwards, thrust the data-disk into a small slit on the side of the holo-projector. A reverberating beep signalled a 3-D image to appear, rotating above the projector's hub. The image displayed a tall, broad shouldered man with a hooked nose and slick black hair, he was wearing a dark grey trench coat, the outline of flak armour could be seen underneath.

"They were being led by this man," he continued, "judging by his uniform, he appears to be Ex-Guard."

Vauss suddenly jumped back as if he had just realised the image was there. He studied the image for a moment before opening his mouth in disbelief. Procuro merely raised his eyebrows at him.

"I think I know that man," Vauss said, screwing his face up in concentration. "Yes, that's General Tyranus of the Planet's Interior Guard."

Procuro sighed, "that's what I was afraid of."

"I saw him when I collected tithes from the planet last time," Vauss said, his bitterness evaporating instantly, "he was always following Governor Sevrax around, I heard he takes care of all the Governor's dirty work."

There was only two possibilities for this: either Tyranus had rebelled against the Governor or he was acting on the Governor's orders. Procuro greatly suspected the latter.

"What do you think of this?" Vauss asked.

"I think that we're going to have a bit of trouble with this Governor Sevrax," Procuro said as he retrieved the data-disk from the slot. "You are to contact the Adeptus Terra and request Imperial Guard support, Captain. If it is as I suspected, then the Interior Guard will be most uncooperative."

"Imperial Guard? You're not expecting a rebellion are you?" Vauss enquired, his aged face contorting in worry.

"I'm not sure what to expect, Captain, but I am taking the necessary precautions."

"Very well. What are you going to do about this, Inquisitor?"

"My retinue and I are going to travel down to the capitol city, Syran, and investigate further. I will keep you updated, otherwise you will stay here under the guise of collecting tithes. Understood?"

"Yes, Inquisitor," Vauss replied, the bitterness returning.

"Good. That is all," Procuro dismissed him.

Vauss shot him a dirty look before turning on his heel and walking through the large sliding doors. As the doors closed with a familiar hum, Procuro turned to his retinue, who were still seated around the holo-projector looking pensive.

"Get some rest, we're leaving at 1900 hours tomorrow," Procuro said.

"Equipment, sir?" Yevin asked.

"Side arms and close combat weapons only. I don't want to draw much attention, which means your launcher can stay behind."

"Yes, sir," they chorused before exiting to their quarters.


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Procuro and his retinue were pacing down the bleak metal expanse of the landing bay, the multitude of crew members and servitors parted to make way. Their jet black lander was waiting for them in hanger ten, at the far end of the cavernous room. With the swoosh of his cloak, Procuro leapt through the rear hatch of his lander and took a seat on the side, his retinue following him.

"Buckle up!" the pilot yelled through the intercom over the noise of the starting engines. The lander rattled for a moment before lifting majestically of the landing bay floor and out into the eerie blackness of space, the only light coming from a dull sun on the other side of the planet. He glanced to Ferox beside him, who was vigorously cleaning the bolt pistol in her gauntleted hands, to Harkman and Yevin opposite him, all of them quiet and lost in thought.

The retinue sat in silence as the small ship rocketed towards Chlorus II below, a hail of smoke trailing it as the atmosphere was pierced.

Minutes later the small black ship landed in the city's space port, disgorging it's passengers into the busy crowd of citizens below. Procuro, clad in elegant robes of blood red and gold, appeared greatly out of place amongst the common rabble as he and his retinue made their way to the city streets. But the citizens seemed to pay him no mind.

As he was pushing his way through the crowds a hand shot out and pushed on the breast plate of his armour, stopping him in his tracks. His eyes gazed up at the owner of the imposing hand to see a local law enforcement officer looking at him apprehensively. The officer held an autogun ominously towards Procuro and his retinue.

"Excuse me, sir," the Enforcer said in a gruff voice, his eyes narrowed under his helmet's visor. "Could I see some identification, please?"

Procuro sighed. He had hoped his presence on Chlorus II wouldn't be revealed until later. Reluctantly, he moved his cloak aside to reveal the mark of the Inquisition upon his armour, as well as his bolt pistol and sheathed sword.

The Enforcer's eyes widened and his jaw grew slack for a second before he shut it quickly and stepped back from Procuro. "Inquisitor?" he croaked out.

Procuro sighed again, this time in clear irritation. "Yes. Now if you don't mind, I'd like to get on with my business."

The man nodded vigorously as he turned back into the crowd and left the annoyed Inquisitor. Ferox stepped up beside him, warily looking back at the retreating officer.

"He's going to inform his superiors that you've arrived and eventually it will reach the Governor himself ," she stated simply.

"I know that!" Procuro spat, his irritation rising further, "but he would have been expecting me sooner or later. He'd be a fool not to."

"Nevertheless, it would have been better on our part not to have gained the attention of the authorities so early, perhaps you could have given him a false identity," she said cynically.

"It would have aroused more suspicion. The local authorities will not trouble us yet, anyway."

The look in her eye told him she wanted to argue more, but she was quickly silenced by his glare. Turning away from Ferox's gaze, he looked for Harkman and Yevin. They had taken up positions on his flanks, their long black coats covering their armour and weapons, whilst their eyes roved over the surrounding horde of people for any sign of danger. Procuro signalled for them to follow him as he continued on towards the exit of the busy space port.

Pushing his way out of the terminal he was suddenly hit with a rush of frigid, frost bitten wind and a wave of rain, pouring down into the hapless streets below. Procuro cursed loudly as he was drenched from head to toe in seconds, his retinue was feeling the same way judging by the surly looks on their cold faces.

"Where now, sir?" Harkman asked, barely audible over the loud patter of rain.

"This way, I have a vehicle waiting for us."

"I knew we should have brought warmer clothing," Yevin stated as Procuro led his retinue through the freezing city. They made their way through the downpour towards an old, rundown parking lot across the street. A single jet-black civilian transport was the only vehicle in the dingy lot, it's uperclass façade looking oddly out of place amongst the cracked and rundown buildings surrounding it. Perched upon the hood of the car, seemingly ignorant of the rain's attempt to drown out the city, was a young man, watching the approaching Inquisitor without any trepidation.

"Good Evening, sir," the man called, "Thomas Gant at your service."

Procuro merely nodded and entered the passenger side door. Ferox, Harkman and Yevin took their place in the backseat, whilst Gant took the drivers position. The car started with a low growl and took off into the city streets, a hail of water splashing up in it's wake.

"You ought to watch your back in this part of the city, Inquisitor," Gant said after a few seconds of silence, "a prominent man like youself would be a target for the local gangs."

Procuro smirked. "I think I can take care of myself."

"Of coarse, of coarse," Gant corrected himself quickly. "But lately the gangs have been growing bigger and unchecked. The local Enforcers havn't been putting them in their place. Letting them get away with murder, literally."

"Interesting," Procuro muttered. And it certainly was, he thought. Why would the the Enforcers be ignoring crimes? Perhaps they've been bribed, or maybe they were ordered not to do anything? Whatever it was, it usually wasn't good.

Rounding a corner, Procuro was greeted with the sight of two law enforcment vehicles lined verticaly across the streets with a gap in between just large enough for cars to fit through. Surrounding the blockade was at least half a dozen Enforcers, their weapons at the ready, checking the passing civilians.

Gant cursed loudly. "Damn, I was hoping to avoid a checkpoint. They've got no problem with practically tearing apart your whole car if they suspect something."

"Are they going to be much of a problem?" Harkman asked, silently releasing his plasma pistol from the holster inside his coat.

"I doubt it, they should know better than to mess in Inquisitorial business," Gant answered confidently.

Slowly, the car pulled to a halt in front of the checkpoint and was quickly surrounded by Enforcers. One of them knocked on Gants window and ordered him to roll it down, Gant complied, letting in a wave of rain.

"Can I see some identification, please?" the Enforcer asked, unperturbed by the imposing passengers in the car.

Gant opened his mouth to reply, but Procuro cut him off. "I am Inquisitor Procuro of the Ordo Hereticus and in the name of the Emperor I demand we be let through."

Normaly this would have left most men doing whatever he wanted them to do, but the Enforcer merely looked back in shock before leaving the window to speak with the other officers.

Suddenly, the surrounding Enforcers raised their weapons at the car and cocked them with a resonating click. Ferox let out an audible gasp as an autgun was aimed directly at her through the window. The Enforcer that had talked to them before returned with a smug look on his face that made Procuro want to knock him out.

"I'm afraid I'm going to have to restrain you and your entourage, Inquisitor. Please step out of your vehicle and give up your weapons or we'll have to use force," the Enforcer sneered.

Procuro could barely contain his anger as the Enforcers surrounded him. He wasn't just going to surrender. Their only other option was to fight their way through the blockade, but that wasn't easy as they were surrounded. Slowly, he stepped out of the car and into the pouring rain, scowling at his captors as he went.

"I am a member of The Emperors most holy Inquisition, it would not do you well to displease me," Procuro said threateningly.

The lead Enforcer simply smiled, then gestured for them to remove their weapons. Procuro moved to remove his bolt pistol, but an unexpected movement to his left cought his attention. Ferox had rapidly pulled her bolt pistol from inside her holster and consequently a number of shots rang out into the darkness.

Procuro took advantage of the sudden diversion and swiftly aimed his bolt pistol at the nearest Enforcer's head and pulled the trigger, sending the doomed man's brains flying across the street. Upon seeing a second Enforcer taking aim, he dived into a roll, bullets raking the ground where he was standing and shot the man through the heart, his flak armour not providing enough protection for the powerful bolt shot.

Turning back towards his retinue the first thing he spotted was the four dead Enforcers sprawled around on the ground, numerous wounds littering their bodies. Yevin was standing guard, surveying the surrounding area with two laspistols clutched in both hands. Harkman and Ferox were tending to Gant, who was sitting on the wet ground clutching a badly bleeding wound on his shoulder.

But instead of moaning in pain, Gant was laughing. "That bastard missed me! He was aiming for my head and he missed me!"

Ferox sighed in frustraition. "Sit still," she said firmly whilst trying to wrap a bandage around his shoulder.

Procuro shook his head in silent amusment at the situation and turned to Yevin. "Start the car, we should get out of here before anyone else shows up."

Yevin nodded before dashing towards the car and hopping into the drivers position. Looking towards Harkman, Ferox and Gant, he saw that they were on their feet and moving towards the vehicle. Taking one last look at the surrounding buldings, blurred in the falling rain, he quickly followed his retinue into the car.


End file.
